


I'm Not Letting You Go That Easy

by IWasFriendsWithaGhostOnce



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, M/M, Pepsicola, Sadstuck, davejohn-Relationship, i dont know why i have so many feelings, johndave-Relationship, many cry, seriously dont read it you will die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWasFriendsWithaGhostOnce/pseuds/IWasFriendsWithaGhostOnce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was 6:27 when you got the call. You had just finished up with the big action scene and everybody on set was buzzing about how great things were gonna look once it was all put together...You felt your phone ring in your pocket and pulled it out to see who it was. Jade was calling you for the third time in ten minutes. What the hell could she possibly want? “I’m in the middle of shooting, so this better be important,” you snap into the phone...“D-Dave….it’s….it’s John! He’s been in a-....an accident! Th-They don’t know if he’s gonna make it…” Everything froze.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> not sure how long i'm gonna go with this one, but if people are interested in it and actually wanna read more then maybe i'll finish it :3

_**In due time** _

_**We’ll finally see** _

_**There’s barely time** _

_**For us to breath** _

_**-Postal Service** _

 

_He stared vacantly into his half-empty mug as you grabbed your satchel and rushed out the door. He didn’t seem like he particularly desired to look at you, especially if it was just to watch you leave again and disappear until however late you were able to come home. A couple times you weren’t even able to make it back and just fell asleep at the studio. “I’ll be back by dark tonight, okay?” you promise hollowly. He scoffs bitterly and continues stirring the cold coffee. “Yeah, heard that one before.” You wish you could say something more, like an apology for being so tied up with filming this month or to reassure him that he’s still always the most important thing in your life. But you were already late and you knew someone was going to give you shit the moment you walked in the door. “I love you,” you tell him quickly before slipping out of the loft and shutting the door behind you. You didn’t know if he had said it back._

 

It was 6:27 when you got the call. You had just finished up with the big action scene and everybody on set was buzzing about how great things were gonna look once it was all put together. Everybody would be on the edge of their seats waiting for the next big Dave Strider picture. You felt your phone ring in your pocket and pulled it out to see who it was. Jade was calling you for the third time in ten minutes. What the hell could she possibly want? “I’m in the middle of shooting, so this better be important,” you snap into the phone. All you hear is sobbing from the other end. “Woah, hey, what’s wrong?” you ask concerned, stepping away from your group of associates for a moment. She only responds with incoherent babbling through tears as she tries to compose herself. “Jade, what’s going on?” She sniffles and takes a few heavy breaths. “D-Dave….it’s….it’s John! He’s been in a-....an accident! Th-They don’t know if he’s gonna make it…”

 

Everything froze. Time stood still. All the commotion around you went silent and you couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of your heart in your chest. This isn’t happening. This wasn’t real. He’s probably pulling another lame prank on you to get you to pay attention to him. John couldn’t be dying. He couldn’t, you just saw him this morning. Nothing made sense anymore and all grip you thought you had on reality had been lost.

 

When you came back to your senses you were gunning it to the hospital in your Mustang, breaking seventy in a suburban neighborhood and screeching around a corner through a stop sign. You regained enough composure to realize you should bring your speed down a bit, especially because your head was spinning and you think you were hyperventilating and you just need to get to the hospital so you can prove once and for all that there’s nothing wrong and John is fine. That this is all in your head. That he was never in an accident and you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Probably just the stress messing with your brain or something. Or maybe it’s all a big joke and him and Jade and Rose will all be waiting there laughing about it. Then you give him a good sock in the jaw for scaring you so bad and a big, wet kiss because he’s just fine and dandy. Yeah, that’s what’s gonna happen, you’re sure of it.

 

You slam on your brakes in the intensive care lot and sprint up to the doors, slapping your palms flat on the desk and panting as you speak. “Egbert, John. I’m his husband. Is he here?” The front desk nurse stands up and steps out beside you, frowning at you with pity and urgency in her eyes. “They just wheeled him in that way,” she replies as she points to the hallway on the right. You quickly nod in thanks and jog over to the hall. It only took you a few steps before you saw a crowd of doctors wheeling a gearny down as they exchanged an abundance of frantic medical jargon. A scraped and bloodied hand hung off the side of the rolling bed that had John’s wedding ring on it and you felt like you were going to vomit. “Hey, hey! John! That’s my husband, I’m with him!” you cry after them as you run up to match their pace. As you got closer you recognize one of the people crowded around him to be his sister Jade, holding his other hand up to her face and crying hysterically. The body laying on the gearny is not John Egbert. It is a mangled mess of blood and gashes and IVs and oxygen masks. This wasn’t John. They had someone else. This wasn’t happening.

 

The doctors turn a quick corner and rush him into an empty hospital bed, rolling more monitors and wires and equipment up on either side of him and hooking him into things until he looked like a demented science experiment. They continue yelling things back and forth to each other, most of which you don’t absorb because you can’t understand them. “He’s not breathing!” you hear one call. Your eyes widen at her. “What? What do you mean he’s not breathing?!”

 

“Stabilize him and set up 400 CCs of Toradol.”

 

“Who said he’s not breathing?!”

 

“Somebody get the civilians out of here.”

 

A couple of nurses start pulling you and Jade away with that command and you try to shake them off. “No, what’s happening right now?! Someone tell me what’s going on!” But your demands are ignored and soon you’ve been pushed out the door into the waiting room outside. “We’ll update you as soon as we can,” one of the nurses tells you plainly before slamming the door in your face. Just like that, the silence returns ten-fold. After standing there in shock for a moment, you follow Jade over to the small, stiff chairs against the wall and slump down beside her. She rests her hand on your shoulder and furrows her brow at you as her lip quivers. “It’s okay to let it out if you need to,” she whispers consolingly. But you don’t. Nothing comes out. Not a scream, not a tear, not a whimper. Everything is distant and out of focus. You feel lost. You feel numb. John Egbert is not dying. He’s going to be fine. A couple stitches here and some painkillers there and he’d be up and running in no time. There is no way that everything you’ve ever loved or cared about could simply cease existing just like that.

 

Years seem to pass before the door opens again and an older gentleman in a white physician’s coat walks up to the chairs to meet them with a melancholy smile. You quickly dart out of your seat and wait for something, anything about how he was doing. You waited to hear that he was okay. That he’d be fine with some treatment. That he’d be out in a couple of weeks. The doctor lets out an exasperated sigh and wets his lips to speak. “We’re afraid that John has slipped into a coma. And right now, we don’t know if he will ever regain consciousness.” The words hit you like a brick in the stomach and the reality of it all finally begins to set it.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_**Where are you** _

_**And I’m so sorry** _

_**I cannot sleep** _

_**I cannot dream tonight** _

_**-Blink 182** _

 

“ _What would you do if I died?” he asked one night as you laid in bed, about to fall asleep. His fingers danced over the planes of your chest, and you loved it when he did that because usually he had no idea he was. The question caught you slightly off-guard though, and you pondered it a moment before you shrugged. “Dunno. Probably triple-backflip and swan dive off the nearest skyscraper,” you replied wryly. He snorted and looked up at you. “I’m serious,” he responds more insistingly._

_“So am I.” He furrowed his brow with worry and sat up to look at you. “Dave, no! You can’t actually mean that,” he said in a high-pitched, pleading voice. “Why not?” you responded. “It’s not like I’d have anything else to live for without you.” You smirk charmingly at him at that part and kiss his forehead, hoping that he’ll drop the subject. He doesn’t and instead leans up further on your chest. “You can’t die, Dave! I won’t let you! You’ve gotta keep going if something happens to me,” John protested._

_“Well, nothing’s going to happen to you, so it’s not an issue,” you said as you brushed it off. He narrowed his eyes sternly. “You don’t know that…..just promise me that if anything happens you’ll keep going, alright? Go make some shitty movie about me or something.” You rolled your eyes. “John, you’re not gonna-”_

_“Promise me!” His tone was coarse and demanding and you knew that meant he was serious. Finally with a sigh, you told him. “Fine, I promise. Can we drop the subject now?” His solemn expression faded away to his usual goofy smile and he nuzzled back into your neck. “Okay.” You looked down at him as a devious smirk slid across your lips. “Now you need to lighten up,” you said just before you began tickling him. He jumped and squirmed away from you as he giggled. “No, Dave, stop!” he protested in contrast with his chuckling. He continued laughing louder and louder as it echoed through your dreams._

 

You slowly opened your eyes, the sharp tone of the heart monitor drowning out the phantom of his laughter and setting a constant rhythm to your scarce sleeping pattern. You almost didn’t want to look up again because you already knew what would be waiting for you. John would still be unconscious and would still be hooked up to tubes and wires and loud machines, filled with needles and stitches. It’s been almost a week now and you’ve refused to leave your spot in this bedside chair for the majority of that time, only going home once to retrieve some things from home and because a nurse requested you to leave for cleaning.

 

Luckily you weren’t quite famous enough to be recognizable and the paparazzi left you alone after a few days. You’re pretty sure you would have beaten the shit out of one of them by now if they hadn’t. Each day passed slower than the last. People would come and go throughout the day, some bringing flowers or cards and some sticking around for a little while. But at the end of it all you always ended up alone. Just you and him. Just like it’d always been. Except he wasn’t there, not really. But he was there just enough to taunt you, to make you think that any second he would open his eyes and look over at you with his stupid bucktooth smile and his geeky goddamn chuckle. He never did. Despite every time you begged and pleaded and screamed at him to do so, all he did was lay there. What a lazy jackass. He can’t even be bothered to wake up for you. You just wanted him to wake up.

 

Why won’t he wake up?

 

You sat up again and leaned your elbows on the mattress, resting your hand on top of his and being careful not to nudge the IV stabbed into his wrist. (You wished he’d just hold your hand.) You don’t even know why you’re doing this to yourself again, because it always ends up the same. “John….come on man, I know you’re in there…” You don’t know why you’re surprised when there isn’t an answer. “Please, John….I just need to hear your voice.” You tightened your grip in a futile attempt to illicit some sort of response that combined into a struggle to hold back the tears welling up in your throat. You’d already cried enough this week and you didn’t particularly feel like doing more of it today. Unfortunately, you’ve learned far too well by now that your body is quick to betray you in that department and it wasn’t long before the hot tears were rolling down your cheeks. “I need you here, bro. I….I know I screwed up with us….and I’m sorry, John….” Your voice was already breaking and you stopped trying to hold it together. “But I promise I’ll be here...I’ll stay home every day if you need me to and we can work this out together...but you’ve gotta come back first….please come back, just….just wake up….please…” The rest was a jumble of incoherent sobs and rambling that even you only understood about half of. Eventually you collapsed against the bed and cried yourself to sleep there, still sitting up halfway in the rickety hospital chair.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**_There’s a story_ **

**_at the bottom_ **

**_of this bottle_ **

**_-All Time Low_ **

 

The nurse sitting in the chair reading by the first floor’s station jumped softly as you slammed open the door. Rose had insisted you go home and rest for a while. So you did, with the company of about four glasses of wine and a nice bottle of Jameson. You had also made the mistake of putting on John’s record player while you drank and that just made things about a billion times worse. So you had sobbed like a pathetic mess over your whiskey and wallowed in your loneliness for a while. But slowly your sadness started festering into rage and you stumbled here in drunken disarray and anger. “Mr. Strider, visiting hours are over. I’m afraid I have to ask you to-”

 

You didn’t give the mousey night-shift monitor the chance to finish before you pushed passed her and stormed down the hall. She made a small noise of flustered surprise before following after you and continuing to request that you leave immediately. You didn’t hear most of it, and frankly you didn’t give a shit. You had more important matters to take care of that had long been gnawing at your mind for the past three months of this. This had gone on long enough and you were fucking sick of it. It was time to settle all this once and for all. You burst into the hospital room and sure enough, there he was laying in the same damn position he’d been in since they sprawled him out on that goddamn hospital bed. “Alright, get the fuck up, bitch!” You slammed your half-empty bottle of whiskey onto the bed side table, narrowly missing a vase of daisies that Jade had left a few days ago before approaching the foot of the bed. You’re literally ranting at a mass of unconscious flesh. So much for the cool-guy Strider act.

 

“It’s been three damn months and I’m done with this shit. You’re fucking fine, you don’t even have a scratch on you! This is such bullshit! You yell at me and nag me for weeks about not spending enough time with you because of this fucking movie and-” You catch your breath a moment and lean against the bedframe, looking at your feet in shame. “Well, I quit the movie, John. I fucking quit it today,” you admitted in a softer tone than your previous yelling. The softness quickly disappears though and you look back up as you continue to rant, a bitter smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “So now we’ve got all the time in the world, Egbert. We can talk now…” You pause uselessly in wait of a response. “Talk to me, you bastard. That was all you ever wanted to fucking do was talk. About us, about our marriage, about every-fucking-thing. I’m here and I’m listening.” You were losing it more by the second and you grabbed his face, pulling it inches away from yours as hot tears rolled down your cheeks. “SAY SOMETHING, YOU USELESS FUCK!!”

 

By now the nurse has resigned to the corner and watched on just to make sure you didn’t hurt him. You wanted to. No, you didn’t. You wanted to hurt the thing that was keeping him like this. You wanted to kill whatever it was in his head that wouldn’t bring him back to you. But you can’t kill something that isn’t really there. No matter how hard you beg and cry and scream it doesn’t change jack shit. But you don’t know what else to do. “Please….I don’t know what to do anymore, John….I can’t….I can’t do this without you, this…” You sounded childishly pathetic and probably would have told the nurse to leave, but you were too drunk to notice right now. Who the fuck cares if you’re not cool or suave or whatever. Your husband’s dying and you can’t even move on from it because he’s still there and still breathing and you’ll never even hear him say goodbye. You’ll never see him smile again and you’ll never hear him laugh or swear at you for scaring him or argue with you about some stupid song lyric that you swear on your life he sang wrong. And it’s absolutely killing you. It’s tearing you apart inside on a daily basis and you just want it to stop. You want to stop waking up in the morning and realizing that John’s in a coma and feeling your entire world crash down around you all over again. You would give anything for him to open his eyes and say something, anything; just for a day, an hour, a minute, a second. Now the closest thing you could do is lay there on the bed beside him and wrap your arms around his waist through the blanket, sobbing into his shoulder and whispering silent prayers to any god that would listen that he would please….. _please_.....just wake up...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no flashback for this one. hope it doesn't seem bare because of that :S  
> been struggling with writer's block recently, so sorry that it's a bit later than the others


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry oh god please don't kill me  
> the last chapter will be posted soon most likely  
> i take no responsibility for the emotional trauma from this story

_**Love is watching** _

_**Someone Die** _

_**-Death Cab for Cutie** _

 

_You’d woken up three hours too early that morning to meet him at the airport. Less because you were worried about getting up on time and more that you were too excited to fall asleep. He had just graduated high school and amazingly gotten into the same college as you, so naturally you agreed that being roommates would probably be the raddest thing ever. So three months later, you were here to pick him up after his four-hour flight from Washington as you were so nervous that you couldn’t sit still. It wouldn’t have been that big a deal if he was just moving in with you, but this was also the first time you’d ever meet him in person. What if he really short? What if he’s crazy tall? What if he looks totally different in person that Skype and webcams have portrayed him to be? Before your mind could wander any further, the gate opened up and you sprung to your feet. You shoved your hands in your pockets and peered through the crowd as you prayed you would recognize each other when you saw him. And despite all of your worries, you were relieved to discover that he looked just as endearing and winsome as you’d always imagined. He looked around a second before his shockingly-blue eyes locked with yours from across the room and his face immediately lit up in a huge grin. He ran up to you despite the massive roller bag trailing behind him as you continued standing there with an amused smirk that threatened to break out into a full-on smile. “Dave!” he cried before almost throwing you to the floor with a sudden bear hug. You hugged him back with a small chuckle. “It’s good to see you, bro.” And that’s when he did something that threw you completely through a loop. Something that’d you’d never expected, and yet seemed like the only thing that ever should have happened next; he kissed you._

 

You fluidly slid through the front door with your morning coffee just as they were opened to public visitors. After the incident you’d had with a nurse a few months ago from too many drinks, the staff had banned you from overnight visits. So instead you opted for showing up at the break of dawn and leaving at the latest possible hour you could get away with.

 

You weren’t alone today unlike usual. John’s father was there, sitting by the bed and holding his coffee as he stared blankly at the far wall. You could only imagine how hard of a time he was having, what with all that you’ve been through. You nodded at him in polite salutation before slumping down in the chair on the other side. You never really said much to each other when he was here; there was never much to be said. You were both content with sitting in mutual silence anyway, letting the heart monitor and IV drip do the talking for you. The door opened again and Jade walked through with a flowery-looking mug of hot tea. “Hey,” she mumbled. You made a brief noise of recognition, wondering why so many people decided to show up today. Then a few minutes later Bro walked in. What the hell? “Hi,” you said to him with surprise and confusion. “Hey, little man,” he said and pats your shoulder as he passes. Even though your age difference is practically unrecognizable now, he still insists on treating you like his baby brother.

 

Before you had the chance to ask anyone what the fuck was going on, the doctor came into the doorway and smiled warmly at all of you. “Hi everyone, glad you could make it,” he said tiredly. His eyes landed on you as he asked, “If you could all gather in my office please?” Simultaneously, you all obediently stood and followed him out the door into his sizeable office next door, sitting down in the small padded chairs lined up in from of his desk. He strode past you and sat down behind his desk, adjusting his coat slightly before folding his hands on the desk and leaning in to speak to the group. “I believe most of you are aware of why I’ve asked you here,” he began. You didn’t. You didn’t have a goddamn clue what was going on and you were quite eager to find out what all this shifty activity was about. Luckily, he continued quickly. “I have discussed John’s condition with some of you. Some of you I have not.” He glanced at you for a second as he noted that part. “But as I have made many of you aware of recently, John’s condition over the past six months has decreased slightly, and as of now has plateaued for what looks like an indefinite amount of time. We’ve done several test and scans and….we believe that his chances of ever waking up are slim to none.” Your heart crawled into your throat as you grimly predicted the course of this conversation.

 

“Unfortunately, John did not state whether or not he wished to have a DNR on his personal records,” the doctor stated regretfully. “Thus, the decision to keep him on life support is placed upon his closest relative, which here would be his spouse.” All eyes were on you. Your answer was immediate and obvious. “Yes. Yes, of course. Jesus, I’m not gonna let my own husband die.” The room stayed surprisingly quiet for a moment until you felt a hand on your shoulder, one that belonged to John’s dad upon better inspection. “Dave, I understand that this has been very hard for you. But...we need to let go.”

 

You couldn’t believe you were actually hearing this. From his own father, no less. “What the hell are you talking about? He’s gonna wake up, we can’t just give up now!”

“I can’t let my son be a vegetable,” he cut you off harshly. His tone softened apologetically. “I...I just can’t...I’m sorry Dave, but we have the facts. The possibility of him regaining consciousness are astronomical. Please,” he paused as a contract-looking sheet of paper was slid towards you across the desk. “It’s time.”

Your mouth gaped a bit from absolute shock. How could he possibly be okay with this? And what was worse was that it seemed like everyone else agreed with him as they stared at you with sympathetic pleading in their eyes. But what killed you the most was that you knew they were right. Somewhere deep down, you knew this wasn’t healthy for anyone. Sitting in the hospital day after day, staring at a breathing corpse that would never even look at him or give anything back for all that sacrificed time. You knew you had to do this someday. You just hoped you’d have more time than this. You hoped you’d have longer to move on, have some sort of goodbye from him no matter how small. “H-how long will I have?” you asked in a small, hesitant voice. The doctor nodded softly and replied, “You will have two weeks before the final decision is enacted." Your eyes slam shut and your jaw clenches as the words slap you in the face. Two weeks. Two weeks left to see his face and try to memorize every detail of him. Two weeks to say everything you’d never had the time to say. It wasn’t enough. But by now, it had already been too long. If you said no, you were only dragging out the inevitable. Shakily, you raised your hand in request for a pen. Bro smiled bittersweetly at you and Jade began to cry again. You had to force your fingers to curl around it as the pen was finally placed in your hand. Before your selfish mind could talk you out of it any further, you pushed yourself towards the desk and signed the paper. But every movement felt like pushing through wet cement and it felt like every muscle was screaming at you not to do this. It was too late. The document was signed and you made your choice. “You’re doing the right thing, Dave,” the doctor told you as he retrieved the paper. You stood up and rushed out of the room, bracing yourself for the weeks of waiting to come and hoping on everything you had that he was right.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Give me one last kiss_ **

**_‘cause we’re far too young to die_ **

**_-Panic! at the Disco_ **

 

_He stared vacantly into his half-empty mug as you grabbed your satchel and rushed out the door. He didn’t seem like he particularly desired to look at you, especially if it was just to watch you leave again and disappear until however late you were able to come home. You wished you had forgotten the whole project instead of sleeping at the studio all those last nights before it happened. “I’ll be back by dark tonight, okay?” you promise hollowly. He scoffs bitterly and continues stirring the cold coffee. “Yeah, heard that one before.” You wish you had said something more, like an apology for not giving him the attention he deserved or to reassure him that he’s always been and always will be the most important thing in your life. But you were already late and you had taken for granted his constant presence in your world. “I love you,” you tell him quickly before slipping out of the loft and shutting the door behind you. As you played the memory over and over in your mind, you recalled that you faintly heard him respond, “I know.”_

 

The days flew by like rain through your fingers and eventually your last day came rushing up. They had arranged to shut off the life support later that night and allowed everyone to say their goodbyes individually if they wished. Rose went in first and stayed remarkably calm throughout the whole ordeal. Jade was next and thoroughly contrasted Rose’s composure, barely able to stand and having to be escorted out after only a few minutes. Eventually everyone had their time and you were left last, giving you a little more time than the rest. You walked into the hospital room for the final time and stared reluctantly at John’s still-unmoving figure. Part of you didn’t want to go in, wasn’t ready to live without ever seeing his face again. And you didn’t think you ever would be. You didn’t want to say goodbye, because you didn’t know how. You didn’t know how you were going to wake up tomorrow knowing your husband is dead and be able to keep the air in your lungs. You didn’t know how to go back to his empty bed and his full closet without the hope of him ever coming home and still be able to survive. Even though you’d had six whole months to adjust to live without him, the gap that remained in your life still left you completely lost. You sit down beside him and sigh. “What am I supposed to do without you, bro?”

 

His answer to your rhetorical question was about as good as yours right now, and you were dreading the countdown of the minutes that surrounded you. Five more hours and an entire life would cease to exist. A cheery smile, a beaming laugh that could ignite the sun, a set of subtly-prominent front teeth clamped on a bottom lip in concentration. Gone. He was your best friend, the love of your life, the only thing that ever truly mattered to you. And he was slipping away before your very eyes.

 

You curled your fingers around his hand a final time, holding it to your face as you laid your head on his chest. His heartbeat was still faintly audible and it only reminded you of how soon it would stop. The tears came without warning this time and started soaking the thin sheets as they fell heavily. “I’m sorry…I know you would want me to move on, but….I can’t..I don’t have anything else, John….you’re all I’ve got….I-I don’t know how…” Your fingers tightened around the cheap fabric of his hospital gown as you softly nuzzled him, remembering the warm blissful moments of falling asleep in his arms. You wanted him to hold you close and tell you everything would be fine. You wanted to fall asleep to the scratching of his pencil on sheetmusic and wake up to the smell of him making breakfast again, even after you promised you’d take over breakfast duty this time, don’t worry about it I’ll set the alarm.

But you didn’t even want that. More than anything else in the world, you just wanted to hear his voice again. Just your name, a sigh, a groan, anything. You’d take anything. You wanted him back so badly you could almost hear him in your mind. _Dave._

You clenched your jaw and tried to hold back the sobs. Why did your subconscious have to torture you like this? You already wanted him to call you more than anything in the world, why does it have to remind you of what you’ll never have? _Dave…_ You swear to God you just felt his hand twitch in yours. Your mind couldn’t really be that sadistic, could it? Against all better judgement, you raise your head a little and turn to look up at him. “Dave?...” you heard him ask in a weak and scratchy voice, hoarse from months without use. His eyes fluttered open and looked down into yours, red and glossy from your seemingly-constant crying. You couldn’t do anything but stare back in awe. You must be dreaming, you probably fell asleep on his bed again. As soon as you look away, you’re gonna wake up next to his unconscious body again. His brow furrowed and he weakly raised his hand to your cheek. “Hey...don’t cry, it’s okay…” You audibly gasped as you felt his hand on your cheek and hesitantly placed your own on top of it, worried you’d break the illusion if you touched him. But it was no illusion or dream or hallucination. He was here. He’s alive. Against everything anyone’s ever believed, his baby blue eyes were locked on yours and his fingers were tangled in yours against your face. You couldn’t help but laugh through the tears that still rolled over your face. “What’s wrong?” he asked groggily, still confused and disoriented. You laughed harder at that and hugged him close, resting your forehead on his and running a hand through his messy hair.“Nothing,” you responded. “Nothing’s wrong. Not anymore.” You calmed your thoughts down as much as you could and kissed him with every bit of passion and longing you’d had for the past half a year. Except this time he kissed you back with just as much affection, curling his arms loosely around your waist with a content sigh. You had the time later to fill him in on everything that happened, or deal with his inevitable shock and trauma from the news. Because now you had all the time in the world; to tell him you were sorry, that you loved him, that you’d never put him behind anything else again, that you promise you’ll talk about anything he wants and won’t ever put off any hard conversations, that you love him, you love him, you _love_  him. Just as you thought that your lives were over, you had the time to have a life with him all over again. And nothing was going to change that ever again. Not as long as he was with you.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everyone who actually read it oh my gosh!! This was a really fun story to write and I'm glad I got so much feedback on it. I really hope that my writing doesn't stop here and I'll definitely be making more works in the near future :D


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